The Lord of the Rings:  The Third Age
by MBosco
Summary: After fleeing from a battle, Berethor of Gondor is sentenced to find Boromir, son of Denethor and return him to Minas Tirith. As he continues his search, Berethor and his companions discover and rediscover dark things about his sordid past...
1. Chapter 1

Berethor if Gondor rode through the mists in the land of Eregion far from his home in the south. An eerie feeling permeated the air around him and no birds sang. Even the wind was completely still as though it feared that movement would insight the wrath of some great evil. Berethor looked around warily and reached for the long sword at his side. Suddenly, his mount took fright and began to whinny and reared back, its nostrils flared and eyes wide in terror. As the tall man from Gondor fought to master his steed, three figures materialized from the mists. Men they appeared to be, in black robes and riding black horses. Yet some malevolent presents accompanied them, causing even nature around them to shrink away from them. As they drew closer, Berethor was flung from his mount into the brush and the horse bolted into the mist in panic. That was the last time he saw the fine creature. Leaping up swiftly, Berethor drew his long sword as the three dark riders sat on there mounts, staring at him. A dark dread was attempting to overthrow his will, but Berethor was a man of great courage and he rallied, saying to the specters before him, "Stand by, creatures. You are in my way." The robed figures made a hissing noise that sounded like evil laughter and the lead rider replied, "It is not yet your time. Move aside or you will sleep with the worms tonight."

Berethor felt his will attacked again by the strange presents of the riders. As he held his ground, they dismounted and steel rang free as they drew long, pale blades. The sight of the evil weapons, naked in their hands caused Berethor's courage to nearly fail. Again he steeled his will and readied himself for the attack. One of the riders raised his hand and Berethor's blade shattered as though it were a brittle piece of wood, leaving him utterly defenseless. He began to back away, looking about desperately for anything to defend himself with. As he did, his heel caught a root and he stumbled and fell onto his back and the wind was driven from his lungs. The dark figures were on him them and one raised its sword for a fatal blow. But when the rider brought it down, another sword struck it and the blow went wide. Above Berethor stood an elven lady with a sword in here left hand and two stones in her right. "Be gone from this land, slave of Sauron." Again, the black figures hissed their malicious laughter and said, "This is not your affair, she-elf. Flee."

Her only reply was to raise her right hand. It held a watery blue stone and a translucent white stone. With a word of command her elven eyes glowed and the stones sent forth a torrent of water and light which struck the three figures. They shrieked as though in great pain and cowered back. With another word they were driven to their black mounts. As quickly as they could manage they clamored back onto their steeds and bolted, heading north ever deeper into Eriador. Berethor stared up at the elven lady. Her hair was honey colored and braided tightly behind her and she was tall and beautiful with and gentle and winning smile though her eyes were serious and almost sad. She proffered her hand and said, "Let me aide you, Gondorian. I am Idrial - servant of the Galadriel the Lady of Light." Berethor took her hand and she hoisted him up. He bowed low, saying unto her, "Thank you for your aide, my Lady. I am Berethor, a former captain of Gondor." And then he peered at her and asked, "Are you a fabled lore-master? I have heard stories of such elves though I thought that they had perished into legend." She smiled and replied, "I am a lore-master and the secrets of the elements are my mastery: earth, fire, air, water, light and shadow. But come let us go. We will go to an elven outpost to replace your supplies and weapon. You may need them on the road ahead."

Berethor nodded and followed her as she glided on silent feet into the woods of Eregion. As they walked, Berethor plied her with questions, "What brings a servant of the Lady of the Golden Wood west of the mountains?" "Elrond of Rivendale requested that I defend the caravans of our folk from Lorian to Rivendale, for the roads grow more and more perilous. I scouted ahead and sensed the evil of those riders."

"What were they? They seemed to know me though I have never seen them before. How can that be?" She replied in a low voice as though she feared the mentioning of such vile creatures, "They are three of the nine Nazgul, the deadliest of the Dark Lord's servants. As to how they know you, I know not."

Berethor was silent for a some time. As an ancient elven tower, all overgrown with vines and brush came into view, he asked her, "I am on a mission from Denethor, the Steward of Gondor to find his son, Boromir. Have you seen him in your travels over the mountains?" After a moment of silence, she shook her head saying, "Last I heard of Boromir, he had taken a horse from the land of Rohan and was traveling west and then north into these lands. But that was many days ago and I know not where he is now."

Berethor brooded on this. His quest was as recompense for fleeing from the city of Osgiliath when he and his fellow captains were charged with its defense. Finally they reached the tower and Idrial pulled the clear, white stone from her pouch and walked around the tower, saying a word of power at each side. When she spoke to the west wall, light from the stone revealed a hidden portal and they entered the tower. It appeared as though no time had passed inside for there was no dust or decay inside the tower. Berethor strode over to a rack of sheathed swords and drew one, admiring the steel and balance of the blade. "It is as though time does not effect this elven tower. I see that even the food is good. How can this be?" Idrial was filling too large packs with dried fruit and meat as well as flat bread made for long travel as she replied, "This tower was built by the elven artisans that dwelt in Eregion during the Second Age and the war between Sauron and the Last Alliance of men and elves. That blade was made by Numenorian smiths for the bane of the servants of the Dark Lord. Wards were placed over this tower to prevent decay, dust, insects and rust from destroying."

Berethor nodded and buckled on the sword. He also took a fresh coat of male and a cloak for his were both rusted and tattered from many months of travel. Idrial selected two more glowing stones, a earthy green one and an icy blue one from a glowing pedestal. As Berethor walked over to a hearth and began to set a fire he asked, "What are those stones? Do they hold power?" Idrial laid the sacks near to hand on a table and walked over to stand next to him. "They are elven stones. The power is within me to wield nature. The elven stones are simply the keys to unlock the power and the tool to direct it with." Berethor nodded. "How many are their?" She closed her eyes as if trying to remember. "I am not sure for some lore says this many and some says that many. At least there are six though I believe there are probably eleven: Water, Frost, Fire, Lightning, Air, Stone, Earth, Metal, Plant, Light and Shadow." As she answered, the fire roared to life. They were silent for a time. Then Berethor spoke, "I live only because of your bravery, my Lady. Allow me to escort you and your people to Rivendale, for there I am bound as well." She smiled and said, "I welcome it, Berethor of Gondor. We shall leave at first light and meet up with them tomorrow. The camp is four hours march from here."

They spent the night in the tower where the wind did not touch them and the fire kept them warm. Two hours before dawn, they left the elven tower and the portal closed behind them, showing a seamless wall. The two marched speedily for Idrial was light and swift on her feet and Berethor's long and powerful legs took great strides. They headed at an angle towards the road in order to meet the traveling elven company as they marched. They had marched for several hours when suddenly, Berethor knelt on the ground to examine something. With a curse, he straightened and said, "A large company of orcs have come by this way. They are heading the direction we are: north by west." Idrial was greatly dismayed. "That is the direction towards my people!"

Berethor placed his shield on his arm and loosened his sword as they broke into a run in direction of the path. Before long they heard the ringing of steel and the harsh cries of the orcs. With great savagery, the elf and the man fell upon the rear of the orcs who were attacking the small group of elven warriors valiantly defending the travelers. They cut down many orcs and caused confusion and dismay amongst them. The fowl creatures broke and fled even deeper into the darkness of the trees. Berethor and the elven defenders pursued them, slaying many in the forests and the ruins. An elven Lord with silver hair, garbed in bright male and a flowing green robe over it approached Idrial as he sheathed his blade. "Hail, Maiden of Lorian. So you have found the lost man of Gondor. Will you continue to guide him through the battles to come?" "Yes, Lord Mindore." she said. "He will need a friend on the long and difficult road he must take to the truth. Alone he would never be able to bare it."

As she said this, Berethor returned. Striding up to the tall elven Lord, the man of Gondor bowed low with his right hand on his breast and saying, "They will trouble you no more, my Lord." Mindore bowed himself, thanking him. "You have done a great service. How many of the orcs escaped?" "Not many. They are scattered in pairs or alone. Even if they found one another I doubt their number would reach two score." An elven bowmen clad in silver male and a red tunic ran up and said, "As we hunted the orcs, we have seen the tracks of many more and some wargs as well heading north. They are always within sight of the road and I fear that they plan an ambush of our people." Idrial looked to Berethor and said, "We should track them and try to drive them away from the road. If we can lower their numbers enough then they will no longer be a threat to my people." Berethor was about to reply when the elf scout cut in. "That is not all. We also found other sets of tracks that do not belong to orcs or wargs but four men and a dwarf. They passed by more recently and were pursuing the creatures swiftly." Berethor bade the elf show him the tracks. When they reached them, Berethor knelt and examined them with the practiced eye of a ranger of Ithilien who served under Faramir, brother to Boromir. The tracks were easy to read. They were heavily shod with iron shoes and the wargs were large, with long claws and heavy pads. Berethor straightened and examined a nearby body of an orc. Looking carefully, he noticed something strange. Idrial glided up beside him and peered at the body. "That sign - the white hand of Isengard; it is used by Saruman and his servants." Her face was grim and her eyes even angry. "The white wizard has betrayed us."

They returned to Lord Mindore who seemed every so slightly anxious about the discovery. Berethor explained his findings to the tall elf. "At least four score orcs and a score and four wargs traveled parallel to the road. They passed three hours before dawn and would have ambushed you save that they found the road too late and the sun was rising. My guess is that they ran ahead hoping to catch you unawares. It would seem that this company was brave enough to attack you during the day in the darker shadow of these thick pines. I believe that it saved you for you would have been destroyed by the larger force had you not been delayed for now it is an hour past noon. If you would heed my advice you will camp here tonight for when they discover that you are not coming, it will be to late and they will be too far ahead to attempt to come back and assail you." The silver-haired lord considered this. His people and warriors were weary from fear and fighting and Berethor's advice seemed both wise and appealing. After careful consideration, Mindore nodded saying, "This is well. Will you and Lady Idrial pursue the orcs tomorrow then in the light of day?" Berethor said it would be so. "They will probably have traveled back some ways towards you so as to be more ready in case you hang back. Be on your guard at all times, my Lord."

That night as he slept, Berethor had dreams of the battle of Osgiliath. His command was cut down to the last small handful of men who made the enemy pay dearly for the bridge that they took before fleeing further back into the city. When he saw that he could not hold, he blew the horn, calling for reinforcements but all that came was the call that told all to fall back through Osgiliath and over the fields of Pelenore to the outer walls. As he ran through the tumbled rubble of many once-grand buildings, he saw that he would soon be surrounded. Fear gripped his heart.

He jolted upright in a cold sweat and gasping for breath. A chill assailed his body though he lay quite close to the watch fire. An elf sentry slipped around and knelt, whispering, "Are you well, Man of Gondor?" Berethor took a few deep breaths and a large gulp from a nearby wine skin before answering with a half reassuring smile. "I am fine thank you, my good elf. Only a dream brought on by past battles." The elf nodded and looked at Berethor in a way that made him uncomfortable. "I wonder…" said the elf before standing back up and striding back into his position on the other side of the watch fire.

The next morning, several hours before dawn, Berethor and Idrial left the camp with good food given to them by the elves to add to there provision. For they expected the hunt to take several days at least. They moved silently through the green forests and old ruins of Eregion, fallowing the orc trail. It was not a difficult path for the orcs cut down any thicket and small sapling and brush that lay even remotely in there path, making a wide and easy trail not even fifty yards from the road. Though the trail at first began to become more and more fresh as they gained on the orc host. As the sun was mere minutes away from dropping below the horizon, the two trackers came upon an ambush sight that, had it been put to use, would have ended in disaster for the elven caravan only a few leagues behind. But it was empty and evidence of a struggle was found all throughout the area. Ten dead orcs and seven dead wargs lay where they had been lying in wait. As Berethor searched the surrounding area he realized by the confused and circling orc and warg tracks that the ambushers had themselves been ambushed, though by how many he could not tell. As he searched he found even more dead orcs and wargs. The orcs bore the same white hand on their armor and shields that those that attacked the elves had though the wargs were wild seemed only to be tagging along in hope of sweet meat to devour. After over an hour of searching, the two trackers returned to the path. "It would appear as though a small company attacked the foul creature that lay in wait. This is good for the elves would have been along just as the sun was falling. Though whether those that attacked the orcs are few or many, I am unsure for they did the work of a sizeable company but left few to no tracks as would be expected. Unless I am mistaking, this is the handwork of our Dunedain friends. Perhaps the orcs pursued them. They are traveling towards the roots of the mountains." "Then that way we shall go. If they drive the Dunedain off then they will return with their remaining forces and I fear they will still be too many." said she. "Come Gondorian. Let us leave this road and follow that which the orcs have made for us."

They continued again and seeing that the trail was less then a day of marching, ran at a goodly pace in the hopes of catching the orcs before nightfall. But as they continued, they realized that the pace of the orcs increased with every mile until it was clear that they were fleeing in terror of something. When darkness fell, it seemed that the trackers had taken no ground on their quarry. Both were weary and frustrated as they lay on the ground underneath the shadow of a fallen oak that lay over two great rocks, creating a natural shelter. They lit no fire and set no guard as they fell swiftly and fitfully into dreamless sleep. They were awakened by the rising of the sun over the mountains. Swiftly they leapt up and, after a small and hasty meal, continued their pursuit. For over a week this continued and they found more and more slain orcs as they went. If the orcs had continued to travel then they would be many, many hours and miles ahead if they had not made it to the mountains yet. Suddenly, they came upon the remains of a large camp. It was from the day before and it was obviously orcish for their were tossed aside pieces of broken armor and weapons and food stuffs to terrible to mention. As Berethor studied the fire, he noticed that one was still smoking slightly and, blowing on the embers, produced a glow. Straightening quickly he pointed at the trail that lead away, saying "They left less than five hours ago. If we hurry, we will catch them before nightfall." Suddenly, a flock or crows flew overhead, causing both to duck their heads. They were large birds and circled them once before continuing. Idrial watched them disappear and said grimly, "Those crows are Crebain from Dunland and the forest of Fangorn. Saruman and the orcs use them as spies. We may not need to travel too much further after all. They will be awaiting us now, backtracking so that they may waylay us as we follow their trail." Berethor agreed with a grim nod and they continued again, less swiftly and infinitely more warily and knowing full well that a sizable enough force would be far too much for them. Idrial pulled out her green elf stone and pressed is against an elm and muttered some words in her fair language. The tree, the stone and Idrial began to glow slightly and the tree began to rustle softly. After a few minutes, Idrial replaced the stone and said, "The trees and plants foretell that the host has been lessened down to fewer than two and a half score of orcs and maybe ten wargs. They lay in ambush for us only a league along this path. It also tells of the four rangers who continue to attack the creatures though now they wait for something." At this, Berethor frowned and said, "They wait for us to draw the orcs attention. Come, let us give them the bait they ask for, Lady."

They continued on a swift march and covered the distance in less than an hours time. A clearing suddenly opened in front of them. They slowed and looked at each other with grim expressions. Blatantly and boldly they strode into the clearing and immediately drew their swords. Wargs leapt out of the bush and Berethor cut one down with a solid blow of his sword and Idrial used the icy an watery blue elven stones to freeze three more into icy statues. Orcs pored from the cover of the brush and assailed them on both sides. In moments they were hard pressed and would have surely been overwhelmed had it not been for the arrows that rained in from somewhere outside the clearing, slaying many orcs and wargs. For a moment, many of the orcs stopped and spun around, trying to find where the arrows were being shot from. With rage, many of the orcs and a couple of wargs began to blunder through the brush in order to find their attackers. They all wound up dead or running in circles finding nothing save their own dead which increased every minute. Then, with a cry of "Arthedaine!" four warriors leapt from the cover of the trees and cut down the orcs with spear and sword. As the orcs turned to face them, Berethor and Idrial redoubled their own attacks. Soon the orcs lost heart and began to scatter in every direction. The wargs were all slain and without them, the remaining orcs lost what heart they had left. A full score turned to the mountain roots and fled up into the hills, even further away from the road. The rest scattered in every direction. Berethor and Idrial pursued those who headed south and west towards the elves while the rangers split into pairs and went both west and north, slaying any they came upon. After nearly an hour Berethor and Idrial returned to the ambush sight to find two of the rangers putting orc and warg heads on sharpened stakes. Without a word, they aided them. When the other two rangers returned they left that place and found another hidden outpost. When they reached it, the rangers turned and one of them introduced them. "Thank you my friends. Caiborn is my name. This is Kinborn, Faergost and Elegost. My younger brothers." Berethor bowed and said, "I am Berethor of Gondor." "and I am Idrial of Lothlorian." Caiborn and his brothers bowed, saying "Well met indeed, friends. What is an elf of the Golden Wood and a warrior of Gondor doing in this part of Eriador?" Idrial answered for them both. "I was tasked by both my Lady Galadriel and the Lord Elrond of Rivendale to defend a caravan of elves from Lorian who came over the Redhorn pass to come to Rivendale and then travel with his folk to the Gray Havens. This man from Gondor seeks Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor to return him to his home and defend the White City." Elegost, the youngest of them said, "I saw many days ago the son of Denethor riding a great steed of the Rohirrom heading towards Rivendale. He reached it many days ago, along with emissaries from all over Middle-Earth at the summons of Master Elrond. You will find him there I think." This made Berethor sigh with great relief at knowing where his captain and lord was. Faergost, a thickly built man with a great sword at his belt spoke. "We have also seen that a mighty host of goblins from the mountains and wargs and even some trolls have left their holds and are making their way west towards the ancient and ruined city of Fornost. As we tracked its direction we also noted that several companies have broken off from them and are headed towards Rhudaur and the Fords of Bruinen." Berethor and Idrial looked at each other and barely restrained a groan of frustration. For if the beasts reached the fords then the elven caravan would be cut off from the safety of Imladris. Sighing, Berethor spoke wearily, "We will have to drive away that host if we are to safely deliver the fair ladies people to Rivendale. We shall leave ere dawn tomorrow." The four brothers drew away and spoke in very low voices. After several minutes they returned to the fire and Caiborn said, "Elegost will travel with you, for he is a mighty tracker and counted amongst our most skilled archers. We shall travel swiftly west and attempt to find aide for you. We will depart tomorrow." They rested well that night.


	2. Chapter 2: Relics of Old

When the darkness of night began to fade into the gray shades of morning, three of the rangers left there youngest brother, Elegost. Before they left, Caiborn said to the travelers, "Stay weary, friends. For orcs in such numbers are dangerous, even to such stern and strong warriors." Berethor looked at the others, saying "After we escort the elven folk to Rivendale, should we go to Fornost to try and stop this host?" Before Caiborn could answer, Idrial laughed. "Think you, Gondorian that we can contend with the hosts of the Misty Mountains; with orc and troll and warg? If we six were to go there, we would be slain. No that is for others to do." Caiborn nodded, "It is true, friends. It will take a host to defeat such one. No my friends. But a large number of orcs broke off from the main group from Moria. They had wargs and trolls with them as well and a number of larger orcs were with them - black uruks from Mordor itself if I know anything of orcs. Where they are heading now im not sure but last I so, they were heading along the roots of the mountains." Idrial looked grim at the news. "We will need to return to my people, Gondorian. They will need to be guarded as they continue to travel." Caiborn embraced his brother and clasped arms with Berethor, saying "Farewell, friends. May we meet again when times are not so dangerous." With that, he and his brothers disappeared into the woods without a trace. Elegost shouldered his pack and said, "Let's depart from this place, friends. We have many miles to travel unless I am mistaken. It may take several days before we meet the traveling elves." Swiftly they left that place, finding the road and traveling south along it. The weather was calm and the sun shown through the branches of the trees and every now and again they found a ruin or tower from the ancient past, made mostly by the elven folk of Eregion before they were driven from the land by Sauron during one of his great invasion of the west and the north. Idrial spoke much of them. "The elves who lived in Eregion were in constant trade with the dwarves of Moria before they awakened the nameless terror that dwelt bellow the mountains. The greatest craftsmen of both our peoples worked tirelessly here, making many wonderful things and many a powerful weapon to use against Sauron. Much was destroyed when he came through what is now the Gap of Rohan and destroyed much and drove the elves north and the dwarves closed the gates of Moria. In some hidden places, it is still possible to find some great work of old if one knows where to look." Ever they kept their eyes open for any sign of danger whether it headed north or south and as the shadows of the trees grew longer, they made torches and continued to travel at Idrial's bidding for they were not at all weary and the night was beautiful, filled with the sound of birds and creatures of the night. The moon was but a sliver in the sky and the stars shone beautifully. Not long after midnight, they made camp and got a few hours of rest and were up again at the rising of the sun. As the others put out the fire and gathered up their gear, Elegost cast about. Not too far from the path, he found the tracks of a warg and an orc heading towards the mountains. As he cast about more, he found the tracks of the fowl companies from the mountains. He found the tracks of goblins of the mountains and uruks of Mordor and the tracks of wargs from the forests east of the mountains and of trolls from the caves. As he followed the trails with his eyes, he realized where they were headed, an old ruined fortress made in the days of Elendil on a steep hill. It had many caves around the base of it where trolls would be able to hide. Returning to his companions, he said "The enemy is heading away from the road. We may yet slip on by with your kin, Lady." Though she was slightly relieved, she said to him, "We should still go after them. Even if they are of no danger to us now, they may become a threat to travelers in the future if allowed to stay there." Berethor remained silent, keeping his thoughts and broodings to himself. They continued set off down the road again as the birds sang and the sun shown in the woods of Eregion. As they walked, Berethor looked up towards the mountains constantly as they stood blue-gray in the mist of the morning with great snowcapped peaks. His mind soared south over them to the White City of Minas Tirith that lay carven out of a great mountain itself. His home it had been and now he wished only return with his captain and friend Boromir.

It was on the third day of travel not long before midday that they came upon the scouts of the elven caravan. Lord Mindore was pleased to see them. He placed his hand on his chest and bowed low, saying to them, "It is good to see you again my friends. What news have you from the paths ahead?" Idrial pointed away north and said "The road is clear for now, though there was sign of a large company of orcs and wargs that was headed towards the mountains. We will travel ahead once again to track them down but first tell me, how many warriors do you have with you to defend yourselves?" The lord looked grim and said, "We have but two score to protect our company of over two hundred." "That is few indeed, my lord. When we reach a certain point in the road in perhaps four days time, I ask that you allow fifteen to travel with us to track these beasts and remove you from danger for the remainder of your journey." Lord Mindore stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Fifteen is a sizeable part of our defense. However if it is true that this will help make safe the remainder of our journey then pick them. Take my sons Erson, Tranor and Delnor with you for they are stout fighters and excellent archers." Idrial bowed and expressed her thanks while Berethor began to wander around in the wooded area within sight of the path. Before long, he found an ancient tower that was so overgrown with weeds and ivy, he first mistook it for a great tree. Only the glint of a window revealed that it was a tower. He looked around it and found a door. Using his knife, he cut it free of vines and opened it. Inside was a great forge room, with tools and weapons still on the walls. Also on a small table were three rings. One was made of gold with a red diamond on it. Another was made of silver with a blue diamond on it. The last was strange for it was made of some strange red metal and had a black diamond on it. Taking off his gloves, he picked each one up. As he touched each one, he felt different each time. The gold ring made him feel stronger and as though he had more energy while the silver one made him feel a courage and mastery of will that he had never possessed. The red ring was strange, for when he put it on, all five of his senses were enhanced. He could smell the hair of the passing elven caravan, could see the most minute details of the runes on each ring, runes that he did not see before. He could hear a waterfall as though it were nearby though they had not seen a stream for many a mile. He could taste the metal of the forge and he could feel faintly a wind that he previously thought was dead. He took them all and placed them in a pouch. As he cast about he found other things: a broach that looked like a many pointed star which he clasped on his long cloak, a dagger that was long and narrow of blade and seemed to have frost on it. As he tested the blade, he cut himself and bled though he felt no pain at all. He sheathed it and placed it on his belt. He found on the wall a helmet that he knew from studying was a helmet warn by the warriors of Numenore and he placed it on his head. In the back corner, he found a set of stairs and mounted them. At the top was an empty room save a single pedestal. On it was a glowing gray stone, a scroll and a sword. It's pommel had a sapphire cunningly lain in the handle. The handle was wrapped in red leather and the cross hilt was set with a line of blue diamonds. The blade itself, when drawn from its black wood and leather scabbard was of steel that was tinted with a blue-black shine. Taking it all, he returned to the convoy and showed all that he had found to Idrial. She stared in wonder at every item. "That broach is the star of Earendil, our beloved star. The scroll is large and looks to be the journal of one of the elven smiths. Those rings are magic rings. The runes are the names of the makers and what the rings were made to do. The fact that they exhibited their power when you touched them shows that you have something about you that the ancients saw as good." She then saw the sword and the gray elf stone. "That stone is the much looked for stone of the air. They are said to be of the most rare of elf stones. As for that sword, I cannot say. It is definitely of a newer make than the second age and looks to be made for a king of men. Show it to Elegost. Let him show what he knows of it." When Elegost examined it, he had much to tell. "This sword was made for the youngest son of king Arveleg. Because he was not originally the direct heir to the throne of Arnor, he was not entitled to the shards of Narsil. This blade is truly a kingly weapon made by one of the great smiths of Rivendale. How it came here is a great mystery to me." As he tried to hand it back to Berethor, he said, "Keep it, Ranger. That is the sword of your people. You have greater claim to it." Elegost chuckled and said, "Perhaps but I give it to you now as a token of our friendship. Besides, this sword I wield now was made for me by the dwarves of the Blue mountains after I aided them in killing a family of trolls that was trying to steel their treasure. It is much more suited to me. Please, Berethor. Take this sword." Upon hearing this, Berethor of Gondor took the mighty blade and its name was Demaring, the shadow of death. It was made for the foes of the Nazgul and the death of the rebel Dunedain. The sword of Numenore he placed in the tower, pointing north.

It was four days before they made it to the path were the orc trail was found and no fresh tracks were evident. Not long after done and with the aid of fifteen elven warrior, including Lord Mindore's sons, they left the path and followed trail. Even though it was old and nature had all but covered it up, Berethor was able to make of it and Elegost saw it as though it were fresh and new. Not fifteen leagues away, they found the fortress ruins sitting on the hill. Even from the cover of some rocky outcroppings, they could see that it was filled with orcs and they heard the bellowing of trolls and the howl of wargs. As silently as they could, they got well within bow shot and Elegost formed a plan with Berethor. "Elven warriors put arrow to bow and hold them ready from here and shoot when you start hearing the name of Elbereth. The three of us will go in, starting with the caves below the hill. After that, we will make our way up through the ruins and kill as many as we can." It was midday and they began to slip through the rocks and ran as swiftly as they could over a stretch of open ground. Without being noticed, they made it to the great cave. Berethor put on the rings and they entered the cave wearily. Berethor could hear the heavy breath of the troll. It sounded as though it were ill or perhaps just exhausted. Before long, they entered a great cavern and saw them. Two great trolls lay nearly asleep on the stone floor. Moving swiftly, the two men slit their throats and also their great wrists. The creatures roared in pain but were too weak to do anything. The sound of running feet was heard and orcs began to pore into the room. The battle was fierce for many goblins of Moria and some great black uruks from Mordor were packing into the tunnel. Berethor was faster, stronger and had greater stamina than any mortal man was born with. His ancient and powerful sword clove through armor, shield, flesh and bone and he swept aside all before him. Swiftly he fought his way to the chieftain, a great uruk taller than any man by a full head and armed with a heavy ax. It bore down on him with great strength and even with the magic ring, it required great effort to block the blows of his enemy. Never had he met an orc of such great strength and he knew that were it not for the elven rings he ware, he would surely be defeated. As they fought, Berethor was pressed back towards his companions. With a savage blow, the orc shattered his shield and knocked him to the ground. It stood over him, leering and raised its ax. An arrow whistled through the air and struck the creature in the chest and caused it to stagger backwards. Taking full advantage, Berethor swung his sword and cleaved through the orc's legs. It fell heavily and Berethor leapt up and finished it off with a final sweep. A cry of dismay went up and the orcs began to flee until a warg mounted orc came in. It had a staff with a human skull on it and it ware a long robe over its chain male. Screeching in the black speech, it pointed its staff at them. The other orcs began to howl and charged with renewed and redoubled ferocity. Berethor felt the power of his rings contested as though the power of the orc shaman was battling the power of his rings. They were hard pressed on every side and were turning as they fought. Soon, Idrial faced the priest of Sauron, the elf stones of light and water in her hand. She began muttering a spell in the elven tongue and her hand began to glow. The moisture that was in the air and the ground and even in a small stream not far outside the caves began to gather above her, weaving into intricate patterns. The water began to glow and with a final word, she sent it against their enemies. The blessed light water cause the creatures of evil great pain and stunned them. Taking advantage, the three companions cut down many as they made their way to the tunnel that led up into the fortress. Idrial herself cut down the priest and broke his staff against a stone. Before exiting the stone, Berethor yelled the name of Elbereth and a volley of shafts struck down the orcs. Confusion ensued among them as they looked in every direction to find their hidden assailants. Berethor and his company cut down many in the chaos and the courage of the orcs wavered. They were caught between these mighty warriors and the hated sunlight. The cries of their chieftains who were mounted on snarling albino wargs began to rally them as another volley of shafts fell among them. The trio began to fight wildly for their lives when out from the tunnels came a gruff cry in a strange language, "Baruk Kazad! Kazad-a Manu!" Out from the tunnels leapt a dwarf. He was glad in mail and war an iron helm and his beard was long, black, braided and forked at the tips. In his hands was a mattock that he wielded with great strength, felling any in his path. Up out of the tunnel he leapt and up the stairs falling upon the wargs of the chieftains. Bererhor drove forward and up the stairs to aid him and between them, they slew the white wargs from the dens of Moria and the chieftains that came from there. Seeing them fall, the orcs broke and fled in all directions. Even the sun they feared less than these four mighty and dangerous warriors. Those that fled west were slain with arrows before they ever reached the wood line and Elegost shot many more that were flying north. Only the few that fled south and east escaped.

The dwarf grumbled as he searched the dead for his mattock had haft split and the head bent as he slew the last orc chieftain which had been covered in heavy armor. Elegost grinned and said, "Hadhod, my friend, we were wondering when or if you were going to turn up. Did you slay the orcs that pursued you?" The dwarf smiled at the ranger and said, "Yes I killed them. Where are those brother of yours? And he are your new friends?" Elegost motioned to Berethor and Idrial as he made the introductions. "This is Berethor, a captain of Gondor and Idrial, lore-master and servant of Galadriel the Lady of Light. My brothers sent me with these two and went to the encampment at Sarn Ford where they say many are gathering. Friends, this is Hadhod, a mighty dwarf and famed stoneworker of Erebor." The dwarf bowed and said, "At your service and your families, my friends." They returned the bow and he picked up the great ax wielded by the black uruk chieftain slain by Berethor. Though ugly and black, it was well made and the dwarf took it for his own, placing it in the loop where his mattock went. "Now where are we headed, Ranger? For Sarn Ford to gather with your kin perhaps or to the land of my people, maybe?" Elegost shook his head, saying "By your leave my friend, we will continue to travel with these two friends for they will need us ere there journey is over." Berethor looked at him quizzically. "How can you know that, Elegost?" "Many of the descendants of Numenor were blessed with the gift of foresight. Though it has only struck me but one time before, it saved my life and the lives of my brothers." Hadhod stroked his beard and nodded. "Aye. I think I'll accompany you as well. Anywhere I get the chance to slay orcs is an acceptable to me, friends." Out of the rear of the fortress protruded a great tower that still stood. It looked over the vast lands and up high into the mountains. Before they departed from the fortress, the men climbed the great tower. It was a long and winding stairway that lead to the top and when they reached it, they found a great room behind a door. Windows faced every direction and they could see much. To the north they saw the fords of Bruinen and to the south they saw the tops of the ruins in the trees. To the east they could see into the mountains and even saw a path that seemed to disappear into the mountains where there was no other. When they looked west they could see the fog on the Burrow Downs. In the center of the room was a single chest with no lock or key. Berethor tried to open it yet it would not give. He frowned and tried again. Still it did not give. He stood with a sigh and drew his sword. "Wait." said Elegost. "Let me try. The runes on here say that only a son of Arnor may open the chest." He knelt down and spoke his name to the chest in the language of elves. It opened without a sound and the inside was of soft scarlet velvet. Inside was a horn made from some great creature and the mouth was forged of gold with runes and figures all along it. Also inside was a ring of gold shaped in the likeness of a dragon flying in circles. It's head was crowned with a white diamond between the horns on its head. Elegost took it and put it on his finger. He gasped as some great power flowed through him. Quickly he took it off and handed to Berethor, saying "You must add this dwarf ring to your collection." Berethor took it and looked closely at it. "What did it do, Elegost?" But the ranger had pulled out another object from the chest. It was a mighty bow made of some shining black wood. Elven runes and figures were engrained up and down its length and the string appeared to be made from some strange material. Elegost drew the bow with some difficulty for it required great strength. Also inside was a quiver of white arrows with red feathers and tips of black steel. The quiver was made from the same black wood as the bow and inlaid with gold. "These I will take. For my bow is getting old and cracked in this last battle. What is this here now?" and he pulled out a silver chain and a medallion on it. The medallion was made of gold and had on it the white tree of Gondor and the stars and crown of Arnor. It was beautiful and Elegost put the chain around his neck and under his cloak. He took the horn and shut the now empty chest. They descended the tower and the company left the fortress. It took them the rest of the day and late into the night to catch up with the elven caravan which was traveling through the night to make it to Rivendale sooner. Lord Mindore was highly pleased that all fifteen elven archers returned alive. "We had some trouble for a score of orcs literally ran into us as if fleeing some great and terrible fate. We slew them all." As they walked together, Berethor asked, "What did the dwarf ring do to you, Elegost?" The ranger looked at him strangely and said "Put it on and see, Berethor." Berethor pulled of his glove and put the ring on his finger. Immediately, he could understand the language of the ring. But not only could he understand the strange dwarf tongue, he could read the ancient tongue of Arnor and understand the elven script and it language. As he wondered at this, he heard two elven maidens talking nearby and could understand their fair speech. He gasped as he realized that not only could he understand the speech, he could also speak it himself. "What magic is this?" he asked in the tongue of the elves. Elegost smiled and said, "The magic of a wise and powerful dwarf smith from the time when the seven dwarf rings were held by the seven fathers of the dwarves and there was friendship between all races." Berethor took it off and placed it with his thee elven rings.

It was but four more days before the elven company and their escort entered the hidden valley. Mindore turned to the four travelers and said, "I thank you for the protection you have given us. I name you, Berethor of Gondor and you Hadhod of Erebor elf friend. May your paths be ever blessed." His three sons bowed as well and they took their leave. Berethor looked around and saw another elven lord approaching. "Welcome to Imlodris, friends. My name is Erestor. Please allow me to escort you to Lord Elrond Half-Elven." They made their way through the beautiful hollows and paths of the valley until they came to a great house. On a balcony stood the tall figure with dark hair. They approached and bowed low for surely this was a great lord of the elven folk. "I am Elrond, Lord of this valley. Welcome travelers. Please take your rest here for awhile." "Thank you my Lord. Please, can you take me to Boromir of Gondor for I must speak with him as soon as may be." said Berethor. Elrond shook his head, saying "He left a few days. Why do you seek him?" Berethor's heart sank and despair began to cloud his heart. "I was sent to return him to Gondor for our need for him is great." Elrond looked very grave and said, "Come. You and I shall talk for awhile and then you shall rest. For I can tell that your road has been long and hard." Then Berethor and Elrond spoke long together and the elven lord told Berethor of a secret mission, the purpose of which he would not reveal. He told of the wizard Mithrandir and of Aragorn, heir to the throne of Isildur. He spoke of the other companions and spoke of Boromir, saying that he would come to Minas Tirith eventually whether the road of the fellowship took him their or not. Hearing this, Berethor said to Elrond, "I will follow him and must catch up with him for if I do not return with him, I am banished from Gondor forever." Elrond shook his head, saying "I fear that it will take much time to find them for I know not which road they took. You must remain wary for they are traveling a dangerous road. But I see you are more than resolved to do this. Rest here for a least a week and we will prepare you to leave." Forcing himself to be patient, Berethor went to the quarter prepared for him and slept deeply till the coming of the new day.


	3. Chapter 3: Tracking the Fellowship

The four companions stayed a fortnight in the house of Elrond. They saw each other rarely in that time as each one pursued a different pass time. There was a small number of dwarves in Rivendale who had been there for some secret council that no one mentioned. With them, he used a forge to make himself an ax. It was double headed and made four a two-handed grip. He also made himself some smaller axes for utilities and throwing. Idrial spent much time with the Lore-masters of Rivendale, learning of the secrets of Middle-Earth and of the elements. She learned new ways to use the elf stones to perform powerful and often terrible feats. This knowledge she guarded gravely. Both Berethor and Elegost practiced with arms with the two elven lords Erestor and Glorfindal as well as with the twin sons of Elrond Elladan and Elrohir when ever they were in Rivendale. The two became very close friends and told one another stories of their home lands for neither knew much about the other's ancestry. When not practicing with sword or bow or spear, Berethor studied the ancient literature and artifacts that were to be found in the archives and libraries of Rivendale. He learned much of the lines of kings and stewards of Gondor and studied the ancient lore of Arnor as well in order to learn of the strange and mysterious Dunedain of the north. He learned of how the line of Isildor was saved and how his descendants were kept safe. He learned of the fall of Arnor to the great evil that came out of Angmar and the iron fortress of Carn Dum. In depth he studied the lineage of the stewards and kings of Gondor and how it began to fade and fail as civil wars and plagues beset it again and again until it became a realm ruled by lesser men. During his search he found a record of the lords of Dol Amroth, the castle by the sea. He found mentioned their the names such of Derethil and Motrothor. With excitement he continued to delve deeply into the lineage of the princes of the city and found the name of his great great grandfather's oldest brother Dromir. When Berethor found this, he was filled with great wonder for his blood flowed with the blood of the princes. As the days became a week, he found that his mother was a youngest sister to the one of the first stewards of Gondor. Never had his father Ratigond told him that his blood was so rich for his father and uncle were soldiers. His father was a guard of the Citadel and Uncle a ranger of Gondor.

The day before leaving the house of Elrond, Berethor went into the treasury of his house. In it were many wondrous things, weapons and armor from time out of mind. A spear that was wielded by Gil Galad and the banner that belonged to that great elven king were there near a shield that was his as well. Swords, bows, axes, spears, shields and banners lay on pedestals or standing in racks or splayed on walls. As Berethor continued through, not daring to touch any, he saw a strange weapon. It was an ancient sword, made before the birth of the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor and before Sauron destroyed the Island of Numenore. It was black and was in a red scabbard. Carefully, he lifted it from its place and drew the weapon, amazed to see that from the stone in its pommel and leather that wrapped its hilt to the tip of its razor sharp blade, it was black as obsidian rock. From it emanated a malice and malevolence that caused Berethors heart to pound and sweat to bead his brow and a cold voice he heard inside his mind, saying to him, "Who art thou to hold me and wield me? A lesser man of lesser sires and half blood princes who art not worthy of the title? I will not speak to thee unless thou proves to me thine worthiness." But Berethor said to the sword, "Blade, thou art metal and leather and a weapons to be wielded, not thine own master. I will wield thee and thou wilt serve me when I call upon thee to do so." and he sheathed the blade and wrapped it in white clothe. From behind him came a soft voice. "Will you steal from the house that has shown you so much hospitality, Berethor of Gondor?" Turning, Berethor saw an elven lady behind him. She war a red and black dress and was peerless in beauty. Realizing what he was doing, Berethor became shocked and replaced the blade, stammering as he did, "I beg your pardon my lady. I… I do not know what possessed me. Please forgive me for my foolishness." She smiled and waved off the apologies before explaining the blade's origins. "That sword is a most ancient blade, wielded by a mighty warrior named Turin son of Hurin, a great enemy of Morgorth. It was forged by a dark elf out of a fallen star and was named Anglachel. After much fighting it was remade and named Gurthang. It's brother Anguirel is said to be hidden somewhere by the son of the elf smith who forged it. It is part of a long history of Gondolin and the treachery that caused its fall. I have heard, though the blade was given to the dwarves by those who survived the fall of Gondolin. Where it is now I know not." She ran her hand along the red scabbard and hilt of the sword and Berethor stood silently, still ashamed of his thoughtless actions. She lifted the sword from its place and turned to him. "Take this sword, Gondorian, but be warned that this sword will bring great evil upon you if you cannot bring it to your will. No one can do this save you for you are the first that it has spoken to since the first age of this world." Berethor bowed and said, "Thank you my lady. I am honored that you would give me such a gift. Pray, who are you?" "I am Arwen Evenstar, daughter of Elrond." she replied. Berethor bowed low and thanked her for such a mighty gift.

Early the next morning, the four companions stood in the courtyard of the gates of Rivendale. To see them off were the dwarves, the children of Elrond, the elven lords Glorfindal and Erestor and of course Elrond himself. Before they left, the elven lord said, "The Fellowship is at least three weeks ahead of you now. Any trail you find will be faint and cold so I wish you the blessing of all free people and of the Valar. Before you leave take these gifts please." And the children of Elrond brought forth many wonderful things. Aside from the sword Girthong, Berethor was given an elven ring that revitalized the body and aided in the healing of wounds. Elegost was given a dark cloak that was made in Lothlorian and would shield him from unfriendly eyes. Idrial was presented with the elven blade Hadhafang which was forged for the defense of Elrond's wife though she never used it nor had any yet. Also she was given an elf stone that was as brown as the earth in the gardens of Rivendale. Elrond himself presented Hadhod with a map. It was a map of the paths to Moria and of the mines themselves. It was made by Balin and sent to Elrond for safe keeping. Before the sun rose over the Misty Mountains, Rivendale was far behind them as they traveled south. As Elrond had said the trail was cold but not unreadable. Tirelessly, Berethor and Elegost searched for anything that would give them a clue as to where the Fellowship was headed. Old cook fires that had all but disappeared and the odd print that had not been covered by nature or washed away during rain were all they went by as they headed south back into the region of Eregion. For weeks they traveled after the Fellowship, often losing the trail, often finding it again. Before long they were led right up against the roots of the Misty Mountains.

Elegost knelt to examine the very old remains of a fire and a single boot print in the dirt beneath an overhanging rock. The few signs all pointed to the same thing. Something caused the Fellowship a fright and made them change the way they were going up towards Mount Caradhros and the Redhorn pass. His eyes grew cloudy and he said bellow his breath, "So Gandalf you have led them to the Redhorn pass on the paths of Caradhros the Cruel. Alas you will not make it over, my friend for our enemies keep an eye on the passes and attacks any save his servant who attempts them. No within a week you will have come down from there and attempted a more possible but even more dangerous road. This will give us time to find you and perhaps help you." Berethor strode up and followed his gaze to the mountain's snowcapped peak. "They went up there." It was a statement not a question. Elegost nodded slowly and said, "Yes I believe they did. But they will not make it far. From what I hear through my brethren the pass is being watched by the white hand and its minions. Though they may not fight enemies, they will be forced to turn back and find another way. All we must do is find out where they came back down and follow those tracks." Berethor's jaw muscles worked as he continued to gaze at the mountain. Idrial and Hadhod strode up beside them and all four stared at the peek. The dwarf motioned towards Caraderous. "Up there?" Elegost and Berethor both nodded and then Berethor turned to face them all. "Elegost believes that they will be driven from the pass back the way they came. Somewhere ahead we will find where they both went up onto the mountain and came back down from its peak."

They continued to follow the meager trail they had. It took several days for them to find what they were looking for. Privately they had each hoped that they would meet the Fellowship as it was coming down the mountain though they all knew that it was highly unlikely. Before long, Elegost found tracks that were leading back down from the mountain and to the relief of the trackers, they were less than a week behind. With a renewed sense of vigor, the four companions continued their pursuit. The tracks became easier as they went on. A hill top with a circle of tumbled stones and trees that were all burnt black. It was obvious that there was some great battle there for there was fur caught in some of the nearby bushes that belonged to the wild wargs of the mountains. They continued from there and found themselves on the shore of a great lake that went nearly right up against the cliff. It had taken them some time to get to the walls of Moria and they could tell that they were less than two days behind the Fellowship, for they had traveled and made excellent time without the hindrance of enemies or bad weather. As they approached, they saw two fallen trees that had fallen across one another. Idrial drew the elf stone of light and spoke a string of words in the elven tongue and the stone glowed white. Behind the fallen trees appeared signs and runes that glowed brightly. "So we have found the west gate of Moria. Master dwarf, may I see your map please?" The dwarf grunted for he did not much like elves and begrudgingly handed the map to her. "Thank you." She said and looked over it. Not only did the map show how to get to Moria and through the ancient mines. It gave also the passwords of all the gates, both great and small. Handing the map graciously back she looked at the gate and said spoke the word. They heard a low rumble as the gates tried to open but the two great trees held them shut tightly. Idrial frowned and said, "We will have to clear these trees away if this gate is to be opened." Without a word, Hadhod hefted his ax and began to swing at it hard. Great chunks of wood flew from the tree as he hewed at it, cutting deep into the softening dead wood. After cutting through it near the exposed roots, the dwarf went along the tree and began to hew at the higher on the truck. More chips of wood flew and just as quickly, he hewed through the tree trunk. Berethor and Elegost got behind the cut log and pushed on it, rolling it down into the water. The two men and the dwarf were winded and had to sit down for a few moments as they caught there breath. Hadhod dug a water bottle from his pack and drank deeply before tossing it to Elegost. Wiping his mouth and beard, Hadhod went and began to chop at the other tree when suddenly, a mass of tentacles exploded from the lake. They were followed by a horrible head and body of some primeval creature. The four companions turned quickly to face it. Elegost swiftly strung his bow and began fire at the creatures eyes which were bulbous and large yet protected by two flaps that were both thick and tough. Hadhod and Berethor chopped at any tentacles that came within reach of their weapons while Idrial drew forth her elf stones of water and ice. Speaking the words of power she began to cause the water to grow very cold yet kept it from freezing. The great creature began to shriek and flail. One of its tentacles grabbed the second tree and lifted it in order to smash the beings that assailed it but before it did Elegost managed to get an arrow past the flap on one of its eyes and pierce it. Though not slain, the creature was in great pain and dropped the tree, narrowly missing the four companions. Turning swiftly, Idrial cried in desperation the password and the gates swung open. Elegost called to the others as he loosed another shaft, "Inside! Get inside quickly!" Hadhod ran through the gate, followed closely by Berethor and Idrial while Elegost brought up the rear. Darkness enveloped them as the creature in the water yanked the doors shut, trapping them in the vastness of Moria.

All was silent and only the sound of their breathing was audible. A rustling was heard and Idrial was heard saying the word, "Light." in the elven speech several times. After the third or fourth time, a faint glow came from the stone in her hand. As it grew brighter and they began to look around, Hadhod gave a cry of grief. The walls were defaced and bodies littered the floor. The dwarf began to moan in his language a chant of grief as he pulled his hood over his iron cap. Idrial increased the light of her stone and saw the carnage of a war. In the common speech, Hadhod groaned. "They have failed. My people have failed and they are slain. My sons…oh my sons." and he began to weep quietly. Idrial felt great compassion for the dwarf and tears rolled down her cheeks and they all pulled their hoods over their heads in respect. Idrial went and knelt beside the dwarf and put a hand on his shoulder. She began to sing a song in her wondrous language. Berethor and Elegost cast about in the darkness, finding piles of bones and weapons. Mixed in with the axes and swords of the dwarves were scimitars and shields bearing red eyes and fowl faces. Seeing these, Elegost said, "The orcs of the mountains have once again retaken this realm. Now we are inside their home. When we continue we must be silent as can be and not draw undo attention to ourselves." Berethor nodded and returned, kneeling beside the elf and dwarf. They were both silent and staring at the walls. "Come, master dwarf. Let us continue through this realm. Let us look upon the works of your fathers and see the wonders of Kazad-Dum and the dwarf city of the Dwarrowdelf for even in this defiled state I would be honored if you would tell me of what we see." Hadhod was silent for several minutes before they rose to their feet and he turned to her. "Aye, Lore-master. That I will." and he clasped her hands. Together, the four friends continued through the caverns of Moria. Hadhod graciously gave his map to Idrial so that she could look upon it. From what she could tell, their were many ways through Moria but only two swift ways. One was through the great mithril pit and the other through the lower armories and treasuries and tombs, places that the goblins and orcs of the mountains would likely dwell. "Let us consider these paths carefully for if the Fellowship came through here led by Mithrandir they will likely be nearly through the mountain and may have made it through without event. But if they have drawn to themselves the attention of the hosts of Moria then we will be walking into a battle." said Idrial to the others.

Time could not be measured in the darkness of Moria as they went through caverns and up and down stairs. From what Berethor guessed, they were in the mines for two days before they came to a three way fork in the path where they had to decide where to go. They took a rest and meal as they discussed the issue of the paths. The map did not record where one led. The second led to the room of Mazarbul and the great bridge of Kazad-Dum. The final one led down to the armories, treasuries and tombs of the dwarves and used a lesser bridge below the great bridge. It then climbed many stare steps up to the east gate. After much discussion they decided to go through the low road for they were certain that the Fellowship had fought a battle though they saw no evidence of it. They stayed for several hours and rested. Elegost said to his dwarf friend, "Tell me of your sons, my friend. How many did you have and why did they travel with Balin to Moria?" For some time, the dwarf puffed on his pipe and was silent. Then he said to them, "With every shipment of mithril from here, they sent messages to me and their mother telling of the great works. They were great smiths and stone workers and sent us gifts. These gauntlets are made of mithril that my oldest sent to me. In one message, they said that he and his youngest had created a full suit of mithril armor and an ax of mithril and steel. My other two sons were twins and worked with precious stones. They sent a great diamond, largest ever found in this mine as a gift to Dain our king. But without warning, news from Moria stopped, leaving us to wonder and fear that it was taken. I know that I will never find my sons remains but I wish to look upon their work so that I may feel one last time the pride of a father and so I may tell their mother of their deeds."

He fell silent again and did not speak again for some time. They slept then, taking turns at being guards. After several hours, they rose and took the chosen path. It traveled downward into an even greater and more silent darkness until Berethor stopped and said, "We need more light than this or else we will not be able to see anything in the rooms." So they each took a torch save Idrial who had her elf stone of light. Before long, they came into a great room with broken chests, racks, barrels and cabinets. Looking around, Hadhod made an observation. "This was an army. There is nothing left in here for us. The goblins must have looted this place. Come let us continue." They left that room and found themselves in a strange hall with low alcoves and crypts inside of it. "These are those who were buried in stone. Great kings and champions these are. Most of them at least. Some I have heard…" and he stopped and looked upon an extra large alcove with four crypts that were side by side. He was speechless as he approached and knelt on one knee. Idrial's sharp ears picked up the only two words he uttered. "My sons." Berethor silently slipped on his dwarf ring that gave him the knowledge of languages. He read the inscriptions on the tombs. The dwarves' names were Doriad, Flohol, Zilbiad and Rithod. They had fallen while defending Balin's body against trolls. He took off the ring set it in his pocket then strode up to the kneeling dwarf and put a hand on his shoulder, saying quietly, "I would be proud to have sons such as these my friend." Hadhod looked up at him, smiling through the tears and said, "Oh I am so proud of them and I am glad I found their resting places." For several more minutes they stayed near the crypts and then they moved on. It was not long before they came to another large room and it was filled with more crypts where many dwarf warriors were laid to rest. As they passed, Hadhod read the names of many that he had known and also how they died. Some, it was said, were empty for their bodies were lost so these great crypts were made as monuments to honor them. It was vast and the mood of the party grew more and more somber as they went along for the crypts were many. After nearly and hour, they found the other side and exited. They found themselves again in a great cavern with pillars that rose till they were lost in the darkness. They heard strange sounds. There were harsh cries but they were far, far away. Even so, the companions drew their weapons and held them at the ready. Berethor reached for the wrapped blade on his back but instead grabbed for the blade of Arnor. Hadhafang shone with a faint green glow as many elven blades do when orcs or other such enemies are near. As silently as they could, they continued on until they came to a great chasm which blocked their path. After conferring, they turned north and followed it, only to find another with a crude set of stairs leading down it and a faint red glow at the bottom. Without a word, they descended the steps, their weapons at the ready. What they saw at the bottom left them aghast. An alter and a great stone statue depicting a great winged demon were at the bottom along with a dozen stone chests that surrounded the alter. Upon the alter stood a goblin. It was clad in dark mail and had a horned helmet with a flame coming out of it. In his hand was a staff that had a iron basket and a fire at its top. With a cry it pointed its staff. A score of orcs scuttled in from two passages. They were large for the orcs of Moria and had scimitars and broad shields. Swiftly, they came between the companions and the orc priest who began chanting an incantation in a retched orc language. "I will kill that blasphemous priest. You take care of the guards." said Idrial with a fierceness that surprised them. She pulled out her elf stones of light and water and held them in her right hand while her left was ready to fight with blade. With great cries, Berethor and Hadhod charged the orc guards while Elegost fired his arrows, trying to hit weak spots. "For Gondor and the White City!" cried Berethor as he cut down one of the orcs. "Barak Kazad! Kazad-a manu!" cried Hadhod as he swept the heads from two others. So furious was the assault that the orcs began to waver. When three arrows from Elegost's bow found their mark, they broke and fled, leaving nine dead. A further three fell before getting out of range of the attackers. Idrial cast a spell, drawing water from the bodies of the slain orcs and leaving them as dried out husks. With the elf stone of light, she sent a wave of glowing water towards here enemy, driving it from the platform. Leaping onto it, she saw that the creature was in pain but standing and still quite well. With one spell after another it shot fire balls from its staff that were generated by the flame. Swiftly, Idrial moved in and blasted it with a power beam of light. As it stood blinded, she ran it through the throat and it fell with a gurgle.

After wiping their blades, they looked at the stone boxes. They were made of iron and a strange black stone that looked to be obsidian glass though it is undoubtedly harder. Each one had an inscription and Berethor placed the dwarf ring on his finger a second time. Each one required a word in the dwarf language to unlock and open them and obviously the orcs could not find the word though they had attempted to break them open judging by some very shallow grooves in the metal and stone. Hadhod sat down on a stone and began to ponder the words and Berethor paced back and forth as he did the same. Idrial stared with hatred at the statue and Elegost asked her, "Idrial why do you hate the statue so much? What is it supposed to be?" Her voice was grim and filled with hate as she said, "It is depicting a balrog of Morgoth, one of the greatest elf-banes that he ever employed in his wars against the Eldar. I wish to destroy this statue but I have not the means."

Falling silent she turned away and sat down with her back to Berethor's. Hadhod said, "Well the first one says this:

Preserved for the use against Morgoth,

Sauron the deceiver and all of Evil's other dark lieutenants

Since the First Age if Middle-Earth.

Given into the Longbeard's protection by Celebrimbol the smith.

"I am not familiar with such a tail for the elves forged many weapons for the destruction of Morgoth, or Melkor as he was called in ancient times."

Berethor pondered it and said, "Lady Arwen of Rivendale told me of two swords forged of meteor metal. One I have and am struggling to master. The other was given to the dwarves of Durin's line after the fall of Gondolin for safe keeping. Anguirel it was called." When he poke the name, the great chest clicked and the top opened on its own accord. Inside was a great sword that was like to Gurthang though its scabbard was a royal blue. Elegost lifted it out and he froze, a look of wonder on his face. Suddenly, he set it down and strung his bow crying, "More orcs are on the way. The sword said that they would be here within minutes and there are many more of them." The other turned and drew their weapons, though Berethor turned back to the boxes, reading the next text. It spoke of jewels that would control fire, stone and metal and helped the dwarves in the forging of many great and hidden works. After a few moments, he spoke the elven names of the elf stones and the box opened. A stone of swirling yellow and red, and stone of black veined with gold and silver and a stone of what appeared to be of grey marble. Turning to Idrial, he said, "Lady Idrial. Take these and use them to destroy that statue. Perhaps that will dismay them." she took them and began to work a spell of fire and stone. Harsh laughter and cries were heard now from down the passages behind them. Swiftly, Berethor went from one chest to another and discovered and spoke the password with Hadhod calling advice and solutions to some of the riddles that were more difficult. In one chest were five runes of different precious metals. Gold, Silver, Mithril, Bronze and a second unique metal to the mountains called oricalcous which was liken to gold yet a rose red color and liken to mithril in its strength and rarity. He took them a pocketed them. Two rings, an amulet, a helm and mask in the shape of a roaring dragon and six mithril and oricalcous broaches were found before the goblins were on them. There were dozens of them and they charged the four companions. Three fell to arrows from Elegost's bow before they reached Hadhod and Berethor. A chieftain saw Idrial and guessed her intent, screeching for his followers to slay her but they could not get past the angry dwarf and the two tall and stern men. Suddenly there was a resounding crack and the alter and statue of the balrog burst asunder and crumbled into pebbles and small shards of metal. The orcs fell shocked and the four companions sprang upon them, hacking and cutting madly at them until the chieftain gave a great cry of whoa and his followers panicked, flying in every direction save towards the four fell warriors and the shattered alter of their pagan god. When they had gone, Elegost counted the dead and they numbered twenty-nine by sword and ax and a further fourteen by arrows. Berethor and Hadhod returned to the remaining boxes. They produced seven circulates of the finest metals and stones, a crossbow that looked to be made by the elves of some strange white wood and inlaid with fine gold and silver which came with a quiver of oaken bolts and a marvelous crown made of gold, mithril and oricalcous and set with diamonds of many colors. They took these, each one broaching their cloaks with the fine broaches they had found. Berethor gave the rings to Hadhod who was both smith and mason of stone and also the crossbow. To Elegost he gave the amulet and kept for himself the masked dragon helm. The final two chests were far more difficult to open for the riddles were difficult to understand even for Hadhod and Berethor. When they finally discovered the words and opened the chests, they gazed in wonder at them. Inside one was a great ax and shield made of the finest materials. The ax was made of the finest wood with its ax-head being made of fine meteor iron found in the mountains and inlaid with mithril and oricaclous. The shield was made of a strong wood and covered with great iron and was also inlaid as the ax was with the most precious metals. Hadhod took the ax and shield and gazed upon them for surely they had been forged by his sons before their deaths. He handed the shield to Berethor for his had been splintered badly in the fighting with the orcs and took for himself the ax which was single headed and could be wielded with one hand or two. In the final chest was the suite of armor made almost entirely of mithril. Hadhod turned to his companions and said, "I wish that this be laid with mine sons in their tomb. Berethor, will you help me bare it there?" Without a word, Berethor shut the chest and lifted it from the floor. It was heavy and as strong as the warrior of Gondor was, it was slow going. He placed it at the feet of the four dwarf brothers and after a few moments of silence, they all turned and walked away from the tombs and the smashed alter and idol. They still had two full days left in the mines and the Fellowship was at least a day's march ahead of them.


	4. Chapter 2: Escape from the Mines

Berethor, Idrial, Elegost and Hadhod continued their long march through the caverns of Moria, their way lighted by only a torch and Idrial's elf stone of light. Each traveler was occupied with their thoughts of the past, present or future. Berethor's mind went back to the day he lost his command, his men and his honor. It was a terrible battle with hosts of orcs pouring into the city of Osgiliath. In front of one of the bridges on the east side of the River Anduin. Their shield wall held fast as they took wave upon wave of orcs. A pile literally lined up in the front of their formation, making a natural barrier as nearly a thousand orcs died before them. Berethor was in the front line himself when out of the ruins of the city came a loud and eerie shriek that was followed by three black horsemen thundering towards the men. Fear gripped them all and they began to give way under the black shadows before them. Berethor remember his own voice ringing shrill in his ears as he tried to muster both his and his men's courage, calling them to stand firm for the White City and for their families. They stood as more orcs poured out behind three black riders and their fear overwhelmed them. The stories of armies fleeing before the Nazgul had been spread throughout the army of Gondor and were well known and instead of retreating, the men under his command charged the approaching orcs, cutting down many though they fell into disarray and were cut down. Seeing his men dying in droves, Berethor fled across the bridge that led to the island in the center of the river and over the second bridge, making it to the west side of the river just as a boulder from a Gondorian siege engine shattered the bridge, covering his retreat. The last thing he saw before fleeing the ruined city was the last of his men being cut down by the orcs and being hewn to pieces.

Idrial's mind was on her home under the trees of Lothlorian and with her beloved, an elven warrior named Rumil who was a march warden of the western border of the land. It had been long since she had been in his arms and she missed him greatly and looked forward to the day when they would sail together over the seas into the west. She thought of her service to the Lady Galadriel whom she was close too. They had discussed many things that the elven lady would not discuss when anyone else save her Lord Celeborn. It was Galadrial who had sent Idrial on this quest after looking into her magic mirror and seeing something disturbing in the water. Now she was in the mines of Moria with this strange man with a strange fate before them and it was up to her to make sure that he discovered what had happened to him.

Elegost, the ranger of the land once called Arthedain was thinking of his home, a cave in the Weather Hills where he and a dozen others lived, including his brothers and their wives. Elegost and his wife had no children yet but his other brothers had many offspring that they were teaching in the ways of the Dunedain of the north. They had not been their when the ford had been attacked and Halbered their captain was driven back with his men. From the news they had heard, many rangers from across the north had gathered to a camp near the ford and some two hundred had been sent to Fornost after an orc army had been defeated by the sons of Elrond as well as Eradan, another ranger, and his two friends Andrial and Farin. It had been many a month since he himself had traveled to the Deadman's dike but when he had, it had been completely silent and filled with nothing save the hidden caches the Dunedain always left their and the tumbled stones and many whole buildings that the wind whistled through. In the citadel had lived an old troll who was living off sheep from the villages and countries around. Elegost had slain the troll and mounted its head on a pike. Suddenly, his mind snapped back to where he was as he thought that his sharp ears had heard the slap of feet in the halls. Slowly and deftly, he unslung and strung his bow and knocked an arrow to the string. If any of his companions noticed, none of them showed.

Hadhod's mind was wondering out of the deep caverns and over the forests and fields of Middle-Earth back to his own mountain home of Erebor with his wife Tetha whom he loved dearly. They had lived happily in their chambers until Tetha began to worry about their sons and even Hadhod himself became anxious after five years. Now at least he had news of them to bring back to their mother and could bring more works of theirs back for memories. His mind also wondered to his craft for he was a smith and a guard of the king, Dain Ironfoot. After the battle of five armies, Hadhod had fought in though considered very young for a dwarf warrior and had saved Dain's life twice. Afterwards, he had become one of the king's champions and was given a special gift as a sign: a helm of meteor iron and precious stones imbued with spells that would protect the wearer. He had left it in Erebor when he came on this journey and now he wished he had it. Suddenly, Hadhod was ripped back to reality when the sound of heavy iron shod boots hitting the floor all around them. All drew their weapons and Elegost loosed an arrow, catching a large orc in the throat. Berethor wielded his sword and shield to great effect, cutting down any who came to close with out much trouble. Hadhod was like a berserker with his feet wide apart and his great ax dealing crippling and crushing blows. Idrial wielded her blade with a blur, not having enough time to use her elf stones save the one she already employed to blind their enemies. Elegost fired from within the triangle that his companions formed and brought down many of the larger orcs before they had time to act. Suddenly, a loud roar was heard from the galleries and caverns and the orcs froze. After cutting down an orc who was totally oblivious, Berethor stopped too and listened. The sound of heavy feet was heard and the air began to grow hotter. "We must flee. Lets go! Now!" said Idrial, fear stamped across her fair face. They ran towards on through the caverns. Suddenly, they opened out into a great chasm and a massive fissure was beside them. Red light shined from fathoms below them as they ran along the path towards a stair that lead deeper into the caverns. Slowly they heard the sound of heavy feet and the roar fade into silence, but they kept running still for the terror was still very much alive in their hearts. After running for many long steps, they slowed and then finally stopped, gasping for air and looking behind them. No orcs were in pursuit so they sat and took some food and drink. For many long minutes they stayed where they were and rested. Hadhod strode over to the edge and looked over at a river of lava over a thousand fathoms down, seeing it as a tiny gold and red strand. With a sigh he rejoined his companions and said, "Let us view the map again, Lady Idrial and mark our progress."

Idrial drew it forth and unfolded it. It took only a moment for her and Hadhod to identify where they were on the map. They were located less than a days march away from the east gate. They would need to continue on their path and enter another set of tunnels that would grow narrow but lead into a great pillared hall. They would then need to turn left and find a spiral stare that led up to the catwalk nearby which would then lead to the east gate. Seeing this and after eating and drinking, they were encouraged and stepped off again in single file but kept their weapons drawn and ready. It was less than an hour before they came to the tunnels and entered the darkness, guided only by Idrial's stone. Since their eyes were unable to alert them to the coming of enemies in the darkness they relied on their ears to hear the flap of bare feet or even the iron shod tramping of the uruks that had come to the mines. Endlessly the tunnels stretched before them and it seemed as though they would never make it out. They lost track of both time and distance and all save the dwarf, who was used to travel for miles under ground, were beginning to grow anxious though none showed it. Finally, they saw light before them again as they opened into a hall with a shaft of light that shown from somewhere in the reaches above them. The hall was filled with great pillars and stretched but a short distance. From the exit of the tunnel they could see a doorway beyond which they knew was a winding stairway. With swift steps, they made their way across the hall when suddenly a loud and wild yell rang out from their left. Wheeling, they turned to see that a large company of orcs was after them again. Where they had come from the four companions could not tell. They fled swiftly towards the door and, passing through it, began to climb the stairs with the orcs following close behind. The stair was long and the steps were narrow and treacherous but they kept going as fast as their weary feet could take them. When they finally reached the top of the stair and came to a narrow door, Berethor turned and cut down four of the nearest pursuers. Another two fell to Elegost's swift and precise shooting while behind them, Idrial drew forth her elf stones of stone and fire and began to work a great spell that would shatter the stair. The spell was a long chant and took almost a minute to complete. Berethor and Elegost continued to defend the stairway stoutly, cutting down between them a score of orcs when the stone began to shake. "Run! The chamber and stairway are going to collapse!" cried Idrial. Berethor beheaded his assailant and then turned and sped after his companions, making it through just in time to hear the stairway and chamber burst and fracture as flames shot through the cracks. So violent was the shaking of the ground beneath them that they were thrown to the ground and huddle their close together. After several long minutes, the earth stilled and they stood slowly to their feet. Hadhod turned to Idrial in wonder. "What did you do, Master Elf?" Idrial put away her two elf stones as she explained. "I heated the stone stairs rapidly with the elf stone of fire and then began to weaken the stone until it finally could no longer take the pressure of the heat building inside of it and exploded violently."

The dwarf who know much of fire and stone work slapped his thigh and laughed, saying "A right brilliant bit of work that was, my Lady and well done in deed. You surely have outdone yourself again." Idrial curtsied and beamed with pride. "Thank you master dwarf. It means much to hear you say such." They moved on then through the dimly lit halls until they passed through another door onto some catwalks that overlooked a drop into darkness. Having another look at the map, they attempted going to the right but the catwalk had been destroyed by some massive object that had fallen from a great height. What's worse, the edges were still red hot and magma dripped from the edges of the gash like the hot blood from the wound of a great beast. This forced them to go the other way. For nearly three hours they traveled until they came upon another hall and the catwalk ended. Though it was skillfully curbed, the frustration was felt by all. Hadhod and Idrial looked over the map again and found that they only way out was the bridge of Kazad-Dum and a tunnel was near that would lead them to another flight of stairs up the bridge. Squaring their shoulders, the company started off again. The only relief they felt was that they met no more orcs in the tunnels and halls of the mountains. Upon finding the stairway, they took a short rest and ate some food. The climb was not long but was the reverse of the direction they wanted to go. Berethor was beginning to despair. Surely the fellowship of the ring was through by now and would be well on their way to wherever they were headed. Hadhod suddenly gave a laugh of triumph as the stairway opened into another hall that went both before and behind them. They turned and went around the gap in the floor that held the stairs, striding quickly towards another doorway. Their they saw a strange thing. The bridge of Kazad-Dum had been broken and a clumsy and crude looking construction of planks now crossed the bridge. They approached it wearily and were very hesitant to trust it with their weight. After staring at it silently for near five minutes, Berethor said, "One at a time starting with the heaviest. If it can hold the heaviest of us than it will hold the lightest." He was about to step out onto the plank when Hadhod said, "Wait, Berethor. Are you so sure that you are the heaviest. I way two hundred and ninety pounds including my armor and weapons. You?" Berethor bowed, saying "You outweigh me by near thirty pounds, master dwarf. After you, please." The dwarf walked up to the bridge and tested it with one foot. It creaked but gave no signs of sagging. With a brisk walk he easily made it across. Berethor followed and then Elegost and lastly Idrial. When on the other side they made haste towards the door and were only too happy to step out into the night. Idrial took the lead, saying "We make for my home. The orcs will be after both us and the fellowship so we must hurry." And hurry they did, despite the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm them. They crossed the small stream and entered the woods. Every now and again they stopped so that Berethor and Elegost could examine the tracks of the orcs that had passed through not long before. Suddenly a harsh and commanding voice came from the tall trees above them. "Halt." said Idrial in the common tongue and then she called out upwards in her own speech. Cries of joy were heard and multiple figures leapt down and embraced her. They spoke swiftly in their own tongue and Berethor was about to put his ring on when Elegost stopped him. "Don't Berethor. If we need to know, they will tell us. Pry not into the business of such folk for what you learn may not be to your advantage. Let us just be patient."

It was not long before two elves armed with bows and quivers of arrows strode over to the three other companions. "Greetings. I am Haldir of Lothlorian and this is my brother Rumil. Welcome. We will lodge you nearby tonight in the trees for there are still orcs in the woods." Berethor put his right hand on his breast and said, "I am Berethor of Gondor. Thank you for your aide." Haldir smiled and bowed, saying "Lady Idrial speaks highly of you, Berethor of Gondor." He turned towards the other two and bowed again saying, "Elegost of the Dunedain. Welcome to you as well for your kin have always been friends of the elves." and then to Hadhod he said, "Welcome, master dwarf. It has been some time since I have seen so many of your people in so short a time for you are the second that I have seen in less than a week." Hadhod bowed low as was courteous and said, "At your service, Master Elf." Idrial rejoined them shortly. She looked more joyful than any of them had seen before and laughed constantly. "Come friends. Let us rest tonight with out fear. It has been long since we have been able to do so and we are weary." The elves led them to a section of woods where they looked up and saw platforms from which the elves lowered ladders. One by one, they ascended and were soon bedded down in their blankets and cloaks. Off to one side, Berethor noticed Idrial talking earnestly to one of the elven warriors, the one he recognized as Rumil. They spoke in their own language so that Berethor could not understand. He was about to reach into his pocket but decided better of it. It was none of his business what the lady and her elven warrior discussed. As Elegost had said, if he needed to know what they spoke of, they would tell him. With that thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep, still hearing the whisperings of the two elves.

They rose with the sun the next morning and the elves moved them further into the land of Lothlorian until they came to a large and well hidden camp with a few well built houses on the ground as well as those in the trees. "This is where we lodge the travelers that we do not permit to enter Caras Galadhon. You may stay for as long as you like and will be safe for you are always guarded." said Haldir. Berethor asked before the elf turned away, "Do you have news of a man of Gondor who came through here? His name is Boromir, Son of Denethor and Gondor needs him in these darkening days." Rumil and he spoke in their fair tongue and Boromir finally said, "He has come through and gone into Caras Galadhon. He will be safe there." Eager, Berethor asked, "Could I not go to him for but five minutes to speak with him?" The elven warriors shook their heads sadly. He begged them earnestly to allow him to go but they only said, "Were it up to us, man of Gondor, we would have allowed you to stay within the city but it is against the will of the Lord and Lady of Lorian." They left him then as he stood there rather crestfallen. Suddenly, he felt someone grab his hand. Turning he saw Idrial there looking on him with sympathy. "It will be alright, Berethor. You will find him and pass your message on to him. Come let us eat and discuss our plans."

Hadhod and Elegost sat around a fire where meat was roasting. Hadhod sat on a stump and munched on some bread while Elegost added herbs to the roasting meat sending a spicy, toothsome aroma into the air. "So what is our plan from here, Berethor? We still must get your message to Boromir of Gondor but seeing as we are in the same land as he, we may catch him on the way out. What shall we do then?" Berethor had always planned to travel with his captain. "I will travel with him where ever he goes until he returns to his home. If you wish then of course you can follow me, my friends but I will not hold you to stay with me." Hadhod wiped crumbs off his beard and said, "I'll stay with you Berethor. There are bound to be orcs where you go and I have not yet had my fill." Elegost had grown quite close to Berethor and smiled. "Only the call of the king would draw me away, my friend." Lady Idrial looked gravely at him and said, "My lady has charged me to stay with you and with you I will stay until our tasks are done, Gondorian." Filled with such joy that he could hardly maintain his composure, Berethor bowed to them and said, "My friends, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart for your aid. I was hoping you would stay with me. But how will we catch them as they leave for we do not know when they go or how they will or in which direction they are headed."

For a moment, all were silent until Idrial said, "I can have word brought to us through Rumil, the brother of Haldir. When we hear the preparations are being made for them to leave, we may leave as well and catch them however they may be leaving on the road south. One thing I already know for sure, though. It seems that some of them plan to go to Gondor, probably your Lord Boromir." and then her face grew greatly sad and she said, "I have also heard that Mithrandir has fallen to a balrog of Morgoth in Moria." Cries went up from the three companions of alarm and grief for all had at one point known the wandering wizard who also called himself Gandalf the Gray. He was a great friend of Gondor and Berethor, before making his command, had spent many hours in the city talking to him on his visits about ancient times. The Rangers of the North always welcomed the Wizard at their camp fires and of course the dwarves of Erebor knew of him. To hear that he was dead was akin to hearing that the Great River had stopped its flow. Silence filled the clearing and all had their own private thoughts about the stories they had heard of Mithrandir. Idrial began to sing quietly in her eleven language though none understood what she was singing save Elegost. It was a long, slow, sad song that made them feel even more gloomy. Thoughts of autumn filled their minds, of the falling of leaves and the wilting of flowers and of the end of days. Hadhod all but burst into tears and Elegost pulled his hood far over his head. After what seemed like seasons, Idrial ended her song and looked up to see that many of the elven warriors in the woods had listened and some had tears glistening on their proud faces. With a sigh, she wrapped herself in a blanket and lied down by the fire for night had come. One by one, the others followed her example.

In the night, Berethor tossed and turned restlessly for his dreams were strange and filled with many horrible things. In the city of Osgiliath he was on the island in the middle of the river. Three of the black robed figures were there and one was speaking to him, saying something that he could not yet understand. Then his dream changed and he saw the great gates of Minas Tirith and, seemingly against his will, he was walking towards them. Men were running to and fro and some tried to stop him. To his horror, he drew the black sword and cut down any who got in his path. When he reached the gate, to his horror he began to open it. He could hear the harsh cries of orcs and evil men on the other side, yet they slid open ever so slowly and over it all he heard laughter - hideous, evil laughter. With a cry, he sat bolt upright, covered in cold sweat and shivering. His eyes darted from left to right and it took him a few moments to calm his mind down. He lay back and wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to figure out the meaning to his nightmare, only to discover that he could not remember anything at all. This puzzled him greatly and he slowly sank back into a dreamless sleep.

With every passing day the company felt their worries fall from them and felt peace that the woods of Lorian offered. They lost all track of time and soon found that they could stay there forever in peace if not for their mission. Everyday one or another of them would go walking throughout the woods and take in the beauty of the Mellorn trees though none ever strayed to far from the glade where they were staying. Night by night, Berethor's dreams troubled him less and less until the only thing that filled his sleep were the pleasant dreams of the White City after war and in peace.


	5. Chapter 5: Labyrinth of Stone

Before long Idrial brought word that the Fellowship was making its way south by river and the company immediately prepared to leave as soon as they did in order to catch them southward on the river. The day that they departed, the march wardens brought small gifts for them. Packets of elvish way bread called lembas, flasks of drink called Mirovur Cordial and cakes of dried fruit from the forest were given to bolster the provisions and to each was given an elven broach in the shape of a mellorn leaf to fasten their cloaks. The march wardens then escorted them to the borders of the forest and bid them farewell there a full three days before the Fellowship departed to give Berethor and his friends a head start. "May the blessings of all elvendom follow you, elf friends." they called from the trees as the company marched quickly south and east towards the great river Anduin in the hopes of catching the Fellowship. Rumil had told Idrial of a portage way that the Fellowship would need to take if they were to make it past the rapids of Sarn Gabir. If the company's luck would just hold, they would make it there as the Fellowship did or perhaps before. They marched all day and through the night and did the same the next day. For two days and two nights they marched before stopping in a hidden ruin and resting for the day and night before starting up again. They traveled this way for many a day but they knew that there was but the slimmest of chances that they would catch the Fellowship. One night as Berethor was on watch, he took out Gurthong and unsheathed the blade, holding it in both hands as he strove with it. _Thou arrogant fool. Thou wilt not wield me for I will choose the one who I aid in battle. All others who try in vain to control me will parish and the last thing their minds shall hear is my laughter. _whispered the blade to Berethor's consciousness. But Berethor did not answer the blade. He merely studied its fine design and the beauty it showed with in the fire light. As the whispers continue, Berethor began to ignore them and stood up. He began to test the blade with one and two handed swings, feeling its superb balance and power of the blade through every swing. Growing exhilarated with every swing, Berethor grew faster and faster with more and more complicated combinations. With a spine, he swung the blade and narrowly missed cutting off Idrial's head. Had she not ducked the blow, he would have killed her. Berethor stopped with shock. "You should not be wielding that blade yet, Gondorian. You have not yet mastered it."

She courteously handed him the scabbard and cloth and he sheathed the mighty weapon and rewrapped it again. After placing it in the bundle of supplies that he carried, Berethor sat back down by the fire. The elven lore-master sat down next to him and said gently, "Your watch is over, Berethor. You may sleep now. You need your rest." but the tall man shook his head. "My dreams are troubled of late. The power of fear hovers over me as though it waits to consume me as a storm consumes a sailing ship." After a few moments of silence, Idrial said gently and soothingly, "Lie down, Gondorian. I will sing a lay that will keep your dreams free of such fowl thoughts and fears." Taking her word, Berethor lay in the loam and wrapped a blanket around himself as Idrial began to sing in the common tongue. Though Berethor could not remember the words of the lovely song, he remember images flashing through his mind of a great walled city of pearly white, even greater than Minas Tirith. Images of fair folk going to and froe and laughing merrily for many a year. His dreams were of peace and joy and he slept soundly.

As they traveled, Elegost began to pick up signs of the enemy. Orcs of different kinds had been traveling at a great pace through the lands and were doing damage to the earth wherever they went, cutting down trees and leaving them lying where they fell, hacking bushes and shrubs to pieces and killing animals for the pleasure of it. To make matters worse, they missed the Fellowship at the portage way by mere hours and would have to catch them at the Falls. Before long they came to the East Emnet of the lands of Rohan. Near the river it was rocky and full of gullies and Elegost tracked again that orcs were in the area and were most definitely hunting for something or someone. As the company stood there examining the tracks, the twang or a bow and whistle of an arrow in flight were heard followed by a cry of pain. Drawing weapons and looking up quickly, they witness an orc lying dead on a rock and behind him, an elf with a bow. "You should not travel in so few number in such a place." said the elf smoothly as he lowered his bow. Berethor glared at the elf, "Have you been following us all this way?" he asked. The elf leapt down from the rock and said, "For many days. The Lady Idrial requested it." Berethor and Hadhod turned to Idrial. "Yes I did." she said. "I cannot protect all of you all the time." Hadhod bristled and Berethor said, "I am perfectly capable of defending myself." The elf warrior smiled and said, "I have buried many who have spoken those words." Hadhod was about to blurt something when Elegost put a hand on his shoulder. Berethor bit back a retort and instead said, "I thank you for your aid, master elf." and he bowed low. "Me name is Aranel. I and my patrol are here to help you make it through these lands which have grown increasingly dangerous to travelers."

They continued to travel south through the gullies, seeing signs of the enemy everywhere. One night, they took refuge in a large cave. Aranel had a score of elven warriors with them and they lit fires for warmth. As most were lying down to sleep and a watch was set, howls were heard in the night and one particularly eerie howl above them all. When the sound had died, Aranel said to the four companions, "It is said that a great wolf lives in these gullies. He is black as night it is said and has the blood of the ancient werewolves of the north running in his veins. If the legend is true then we must make it out of these gullies as soon as it is day for he will come after us." Elegost nodded his head and kept his bow strung and ready. Hadhod was fast asleep and Berethor's head was nodding with drowsiness.

When they woke the next morning, Elegost looked at the prints of warg tracks outside the cave and saw that one set was nearly five times the size of the others. "We are being hunted by the great wolf." he said. Quickly they moved that day, all of them knowing that this legendary great wolf was watching and waiting for his opportunity. All kept weapons at the ready which saved them from great danger as they rounded a bend and found themselves in a camp of orcs. With snarls, the orcs grabbed their weapons and attacked, only to be driven away by blade and arrow of the elven warriors and the four companions. Many were cut down before they fled deep into the gullies. Suddenly growls and snarls of wargs were heard and the screams of frightened orcs. "We must move. We cannot linger here." said Idrial and they began to run. Faster and faster they went until night fell once again. Aranel sighed and said, "I underestimated the size of these gullies. It may take longer than I thought to escape them. Hopefully we will be out by tomorrow." Again they set up camp in a cluster of caves with the fires placed at the entrance. Aranel shared a cave with the five companions. He told them tails of the elves of Lothlorian in ancient times and of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. As he listened, Berethor sat at the entrance to the cave with a sheathed Gurthong in his hands. Ever the blade whispered to him and laughed in his mind and ever he strived over it, imposing his will on that of the blade. Suddenly, all were silent for they all thought they heard a noise outside the cave. For a moment, only the crackle of the fire was heard but then came the heavy breathing of some great beast and a pair of evil eyes were reflected just inside the ring of firelight. Taking the ring that improved his sight from his pocket, Berethor slipped it on and gasped in shock. There crouching just out of the shadows was a great wolf, larger than any wolf he had ever seen. It was far larger than a horse for, indeed, it could probably have eaten a full sized horse. What cause Berethor to nearly quake was the knowing, leering look in its eyes for they were not the eyes of a beast but that of a man who knew something of the greatest importance and would use it against his enemies. Berethor stood slowly and pointed but the great warg disappeared into the night. "It was the great wolf, wasn't it?" asked Elegost solemnly. "I could smell death nearby. We best get some sleep while we can. I'll take the first watch."

Dawn was red the next day as the company began to move again. They traveled quickly with Aranel guiding them. "There are to ways out of the gullies. One is above the Falls of Ralraus and the other is below them. With any luck, we will find our way to the upper exit of the falls and catch the Fellowship where they land. Hopefully we will get out today before sundown." As they continued south they saw fewer and fewer signs that the enemy was about but they all felt the eyes of evil upon them and some sinister force leered at them from a hidden place where they could not see. As the sun began go fall they came to the edge of the gullies and from there, Berethor viewed the Argonath - the pillars of the kings and the northern gate of Gondor. Aranel pointed far to the south and east towards a hill with some ruins on top of it. "There is where the Fellowship has undoubtedly landed. If you hurry you may make it to them. We must move."

Before they could move out of the gullies, the great wolf leapt in there path. It was huge, large enough that a small troll could ride upon it and its eyes were blue. The eyes were not the eyes of a wolf or warg but those of a man who was filled with such wrath and malice that even the bold elves nearly quailed and fled. Taking a deep breath, Elegost and Berethor strode forward together with their weapons held ready. The wolf raised his head and howled. But it was not a howl. It was a mocking guttural laugh like that of a deep throated wolf. Idrial and Hadhod raised their weapons and stood beside the two men. The great warg charged and leapt at them. All leapt out of the way and Elegost loosed a shaft at the wolf as he dove. The shaft took the beast in the shoulder. Hadhod nearly missed being bitten by the great mouth. "It nearly took me head off!" said the dwarf, his anger growing and he raised his ax and spread his short legs. Berethor leapt towards the warg and slashed at its ribs before it could turn, opening a great gash in its side. With a snarl it slashed at him with his claws and sent him sprawling, his male coat rent asunder. Idrial pulled out her elven stones and began to weave spell of fire and light that would kill the warg but when she released it, some darkness defended the warg, a magic far more ancient and powerful than those of the stones. Elegost fired arrow after arrow into the warg but it seemed to have little effect. Suddenly, a volley of shafts leapt towards the warg and he looked as a pin cushion. But this did not even slow him for he was a mighty warg and the blood of the werewolves of the Witch-Realm of Angmar was in him. He charged their ranks, bulling the men and lore-master aside. Hadhod leapt to the top of some rocks and jump off, bringing his ax down on the skull of the great warg. With a cry of pain, the Warg began to leap about, trying to dislodge the ax and angry dwarf. Hadhod fell heavily to the ground and the ax staid lodged in the skull of the monster who continued to leap about. Suddenly he fell to the ground and began to roll. Taking full advantage, Berethor leapt at it and drove his sword of Arnor into the creatures chest. With a jerk, the blade was wrenched from his arms and his was knocked to the side, weaponless. With a loud ring, the sword broke asunder into small pieces. Anger filled Berethor and he ran to his pack. There lay Gurthong the black sword. He picked up the long sword and held it in his hands. It laughed in his mind and whispered _At thy greatest need thou thinks that thou can wield me? You will die now._

_But Berethor said to the blade. "I will wield thee, Gurthong for I claim thee to mine own. Thou hath no choice in this for I am in need and the lives of my friends are in danger. Now come and let us give battle!" Drawing the blade from the scabbard, Berethor turned and charged with a cry of wrath. He fell then on the warg, who had just come to his feet and was about to return to battle. The warg turned on him and bit at him, narrowly severing Berethor's arm. Berethor swung the blade, hearing its laughing in his head as he wielded it. He strove both against the warg and the blade until, with a cry of triumph, he drove it into the warg's heart. All was still for several moments until the warg toppled over. Pulling the blade from the corpse he stared at it and said, "You are mine, sword. And until this war is finished you shall be mine and no malice will you bring upon me and my friends." With that, he wiped the blade and sheathed it in its scabbard. When he turned and looked upon the corpse of the warg, he watched it shrink down till it was no larger than a common gray wolf before it suddenly dissolved into smoke on the wind. His companions looked upon him with some wonder for tall he was and lordly to their eyes with the black sword Gurthong on his hip. Suddenly, he collapsed and they realized the wounds he had been dealt in his battle with the great warg. They ran to him and began to care for his wounds. None of them were so grievous that he was in mortal danger but they bled profusely and it took them some time to wrap the wounds. Elegost was anxious. "We need to find the fellowship. If we miss them now, tracking them in these lands or the lands nearby will be very difficult even for me." So they use bow staves and cloaks to carry Berethor. The going started out slow for he was a large man and strongly built but as they made it out into the open and the ground became flatter, they were able to move more quickly. Even when in the trees, there was enough room between to get through. On the other side of the forest they looked upon a wide plain. "This is the land of Rohan, home to the Rohirrom which they call the Mark." said Elegost. "Whether they are friend or foe, I know not so we must take care."_


End file.
